Warrior is A Child
by elvenarchress
Summary: Even the best need to rest. A songfic tribute to the Wreckers.


**Title:** Warrior is a Child

**Rating**: PG

**Warning:** Angst-y… but it gets better at the end… also unbeta'ed so errors like whoa

**Disclaimer:** New fic – still got nothing

**A/N:** I can't believe I wrote this…It's a Wrecker tribute by the way. You can take it as the story of one mech (guess who) or several shots into the lives of the entire team…

The song is "Warrior is a Child" (hence the title) by Gary Valenciano although there are other versions out there. It's rather religious (Catholic) but I thought it still fit somehow...

Try reading the fic while the music's playing – might put it in a better light. XD

--Start--

They were the best fighters in the army – capable of turning a battle's tide by their presence alone. Primus only knew how truly they deserved the title. But that's what they were there for: to be the support an ally needed, solid, unwavering and capable, even in the darkest hours – _especially_ then. That was what being a Wrecker was all about.

_Lately I've been winning battles left and right,  
But even winners can get wounded in the fight_

He surveyed the situation, as calm as a storm's eye, knowing his every move, every reaction was both judge and judged. No matter how hopeless or overwhelming the status, he could not falter – not like he'd ever want to- for if he allowed himself to even process defeat, he as good as deactivated the bots depending on him himself.

_People say that I'm amazing  
I'm strong beyond my years_

With a grin and a laugh, he turned to them, a kick-aft plan already brewing in his processor. He would not fail.

_But they don't see inside of me  
I'm hiding all the tears_

Listening to the other bots acclaim their recent exploits (which were getting more and more outrageous with every additional bot, in attendance), the Wrecker shook his head, stood, brushing off all their praises –'all part of the job'- and mingled, telling a bot that he'd done well or helpfully pointed out where and how he could improve his performance. As if it was normal. Well they mused, it must be for him. No one noticed how often he'd looked up to search the skies.

_They don't know  
that I come running home when I fall down_

Jerked roughly online, less than a cycle after he'd been convinced to recharge, by the very signal he had been waiting half a decacycle for, he was nevertheless careful to leave quietly and left the exhausted, injured mechs to their rest. They deserved it. And while his sigh of relief, unconsciously released as he returned to his team, was quite audible, it was okay; nobody heard.

_They don't know  
Who picks me up when no one is around_

Mostly uninjured -this time around- he opted to skip a trip to the medbay, knowing full well that they were short on supplies as it was and that he was likely going to be visiting after their next mission and made a beeline for his quarters, lock clicking firmly into place, directly after the mission debriefing.

_I drop my sword and cry for just a while_

After emptying his subspace pockets and stripping off all his (remaining) weaponry he had fully intended to recharge or better yet prepare for the next slagfest when he caught sight of a little red and white model sitting on his desk. He spent his remaining free time just cradling the little thing, occasionally caressing a smooth plane, before arming himself once again.

_Cuz deep inside this armor  
The warrior is a child_

It was no secret that they loved to fight. They knew what they were and what they could do. They were the Autobots' #1 strikeforce, the Wreckers and slagging proud of it. Didn't mean that that was all there was to them though.

_Unafraid because his armor is the best  
But even soldiers need a quiet place to rest_

It was reckless, heck, it was suicidal but it had to be done and so it wouldbe. No one was surprised that the task fell to a Wrecker.

_People say that I'm amazing  
I never face retreat_

In the back of his processor he knew he was surrounded but he kept going, hoping to buy enough time for the info capsule he had left, a dozen turns and as many bodies ago, to be found by his comrades. When a shot ended the chase, he –painfully- switched to mech form even as he calculated how to take down as many of his would-be pursuers as possible. His weapon set at high, he charged.

_But they don't see the enemies  
That lay me at his feet_

When he came out of stasis, the first thing he saw was the rather familiar sight of the team's medbay ceiling. Rather comforting actually. And a little disappointing since it meant the situation had been dealt with. He was rather alarmed however, to find the other berths occupied.

_They don't know  
That I come running home when I fall down_

He'd have kicked himself (figuratively seeing as he lacked the necessary limbs to do so) but his teammates were quick to reassure him that things would have gone a whole lot worse otherwise – and threaten his remaining appendages if he kept blaming himself.

_They don't know  
Who picks me up when no one is around_

As much as he loved his team, he'd practically do anything for them, there were times, rare to be sure, that he just had to get away – to _not_ be the infallible, indomitable warrior and comrade they needed him to be. For it to be okay for him to _be_ the flawed character he was inside. He had a haven, a place where he could be totally at peace, but he was too far away. For now all he could do was endure.

_I drop my sword and cry for just a while_

Going through the tedious docking procedures, he had to remind himself repeatedly that he was a professional and that duty came before personal wants and needs. Even with such admonitions, he found himself gravitating towards the hangar doors.

_Cuz deep inside this armor  
The warrior is a child_

Without a thought he punched in the code, slipping inside and was halfway across the darkened room before the door had even fully slid open. He didn't need to think, didn't need light; he knew the way. He had traveled it often enough in his cranial unit during the last string of missions.

_They don't know  
That I come running home when I fall down_

Getting into personal quarters required no trick – they were never locked anyway- and then he was facing the recharging form of the bot whose faceplate kept popping up randomly (and persistently) in his processor and would cause a rather goofy smile to appear on his own face.

_They don't know  
Who picks me up when no one is around_

He just stood there, feeling his tension ebb away, basking in the wave of warmth that just seeing the other mech produced in his Spark, and allowing it to fill him completely. No one else could make him feel the way that mech could. Ruthlessly he pushed away his fears and trepidations; he'd guard against all dangers, come whatever, but he could never let the other bot go. Hearing a hitch in what was previously a smooth flow of ventilated air, he raised his head (having lowered it to glower darkly at his pedes) to meet sky-blue optics, widened by incredulity, surprise and joy.

_I drop my sword and look up for a smile_

Soundlessly the other mech made his way hesitantly towards him as though afraid the Wrecker would vanish all of a sudden. Smiling gently he caught the hand reaching for him, his battlemask sliding apart so he could nuzzle the palm even as he tugged the smaller bot into his arms. With a sigh the other mech melted in his embrace though not before he playfully snatched the optic band off his faceplate so that nothing, nothing at all, was between them.

'_Cuz deep inside this armor (deep inside)_

How they got to the berth wasn't exactly clear but, really, nobody cared. Affirming each other's presence was far, _far_ more important.

_Deep inside this armor_

Fingers delved deep, bodies intertwined so as to press all the more tightly together, _needing_ to feel that the other was alive and to keep him as close as possible, never wanting to let go.

_Deep inside this armor  
the Warrior is a Child_

--End--

**A/N:** I still can't believe I wrote a song fic --_shakes head--_ I blame my LSS syndrome; it started playing that song in my head while I was reading the Sandstorm backstory ajremix wrote and this --_waves--_ was the result. Originally the story was just about Sandy (with a touch of Flight) but as I was writing, I realized the song was applicable to the entire group, so I upped the vagueness of it all to include them all. I hope it wasn't too confusing.

Reviews will (somehow) be transformed into hugs for the Wreckers so leave a review and hug a Wrecker!

(All kidding aside, please do leave a review and let me know what you think.)


End file.
